Between the Lines
by Actrez
Summary: There's always more to the story than what's written. Sarkney goodness.


By: Actrez  
  
Disclaimer: There not mine, I'm simply borrowing them.  
  
Author's Note: This is actually my first Sarkney ever, it's just a quick little fluffy one parter I wrote in my head at dinner. It takes place in season 2 when SD-6 is still around and Sark is working there. Hope you like it!  
  
Between the Lines  
  
She breezes through the door, a bright smile on her face as she approaches the counter. She orders a coffee and a muffin, her usual, and sits at the table near the window. She grabs a newspaper from the stand and lays it on the table as she begins picking apart her muffin. She reads the story on the first page about the latest development in the Middle East, a development she knew about days before the paper printed the story. She knows the facts between the words on the page, knows what the general public will never have the faintest clue of.  
  
The story bores her, as they always do, with the simplification of what happened. None of them will ever know what it's really like, what really happens behind the reporter's story. She leaves the paper on the table, but ignores it, scanning the room unconsciously. Years of training causes her to take notice of every face in the small café. She doesn't see him though.  
  
She mentally flags suspicious faces and picks up the conversation of the couple behind her. She quickly tires of the couple's constant terms of endearment and shifts her focus to a business phone call taking place just a few tables over. She sips her coffee, blending in easily with the other patrons. A discussion taking place across the café catches her attention and she shifts her position, her eyes fall to the discarded paper. He can see her stare at the words blankly and knows she is doing her best to hear the discussion.  
  
One of the men gets up and walks over to her, she allows him to stand over the table for a few moments before looking up from the paper. "I'm Tom West," he says with what he thinks is a charming smile.  
  
She gives him a shy smile as he takes a seat, "Kate," she lies easily. Her eyes fall back to the table and she twirls her hair subconsciously, easily falling into the roll she's given herself.  
  
"Do you have a last name?"  
  
"Oh," she blushes, "I never give my last name to strangers," she feigns slight nervousness as if she couldn't take this guy down without breaking a sweat.  
  
The guy smiles at her 'helpless woman' act, and leans back arrogantly in the chair. "My friend and I were trying to decide what you were doing her by yourself," he says, "He thinks you must be waiting for a business meeting, but I told him a beautiful girl like yourself was probably waiting for her boyfriend." He looks at her, waiting for her to tell him that he was wrong so he can make his move.  
  
She looks down at the table again, her hair covering her face, "Oh," she giggles softly, "Actually I'm waiting for my girlfriend."  
  
Sark watches as Tom pauses, he can see the amusement in her eyes and knows she did it purely for the shock value. "Oh, well," Tom fumbles as he stands up, Sark smirks, "it was nice to meet you."  
  
"You too," she tells him as he leaves. She grins to herself. 'Kate' disappears with the blink of an eye and Sydney Bristow returns. He likes her better. He wonders what she would say if he told her that.  
  
She scans the café again, still not registering his form sitting only four tables away. She finishes the last of her muffin and grabs her half drunken cup of coffee. She places the newspaper back on the stand next to his table and doesn't even pause to look back at him as she exits.  
  
He waits until she has started her car to grab the discarded newspaper. He skims the front page, focusing on the cover story she had shunned earlier. He smirks when he sees it, there between the lines, in her graceful handwriting: Some people would consider this stalking. See you at 8?  
  
His smirk grows and he feigns interest in the story before placing the newspaper back on the stand and getting up to leave. He gives her a five minute head start before sliding into his Mercedes and heading to the office. He knows they'll bicker in the debrief, as they always do and he'll be content to watch the fire in her eyes as she says the retorts that come so easily to 'Agent Bristow'. He'll voice 'Mr. Sark's' confident comments and wait patiently until tonight when they will no longer have to compartmentalize pieces of themselves. She will simply be Sydney Bristow and he will be Julian Sark. 


End file.
